*
*
*
Valeria saw herself and her father inside the military base again, back in Dr. Steven's office.
She didn't know why they had returned, only that her chest felt tight the moment she realized where they were. Her small fingers curled around her teddy bear, clutching it to her chest as if it could protect her from the unease crawling up her spine.
She pressed herself into her father's side, like she always did in this place. Around the soldiers. Around the weird old man with the smile that never felt right.
"Trust me," Dr. Steven said calmly. "You're doing the right thing."
"Oh, I know," Martin replied, lips curling into a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Because if I'm not, your family name won't have a future."
The old man swallowed and nodded.
A private stepped forward and snapped into a salute.
"Take her to the lab." Dr. Steven ordered.
The soldier reached for Valeria.
She screamed.
"No!" She locked her arms around her father's waist, clinging to him with all the strength her small body had. "Let me go! Where are you taking me? Papa!"
The soldier tried to pull her free. Valeria kicked wildly, her shoe connecting with his foot. He cursed under his breath, stumbling back.
She scrambled toward her father again, sobbing now, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Papa, please," she cried. "I don't want to go. I want to stay with you."
Martin finally moved.
He knelt in front of her, steady hands cupping her face. His voice softened, slow and reassuring.
"Mijá… think of it like a treatment. Something to stop those pains you've been having. So you won't be sick anymore."
He wiped her tears away with his thumbs.
"I'll be right outside the door," he promised. "Watching everything. Don't you want to be healthy?"
Valeria sniffed, nodding weakly.
"I do."
"Mi buena niña (My good girl)." he whispered, kissing her forehead.
Martin stood. Dr. Steven joined him.
This time, Valeria didn't fight as they led her away.
The elevator they used had no buttons. Just a narrow silver slot where Steven slid his card.
The doors sighed open.
A white hallway stretched ahead, a blue stripe running neatly down the floor. Small black cameras clung to the ceiling every few steps, their dark lenses watching. A glass booth sat at the corner, a man inside staring down at a desk, never looking up.
Dr. Steven tapped his badge against a glowing circle, pressed his thumb to a square. The light turned green. Two soft beeps followed. A narrow corridor breathed cold air onto Valeria's neck, lifting the fine hairs there. It smelled faintly of lemon.
At the end waited a thicker door, two card slots and a blinking red light like a tiny, unblinking eye. The door was strangely thick, greenish, like glass meant for bottles. When it unlocked, the floor thumped softly beneath her shoes.
Inside, the room felt like a dentist's office with no windows.
One wall was a massive mirror. If she tilted her head just right, she could see movement behind it. The ceiling was a neat grid of lights and metal rails. Vents hummed. Corners held small round fixtures sprinklers, or speakers. She couldn't tell.
In there, several beds with rounded edges, straps folded neatly like ribbons.
A white sign on the wall read P.R.I.S.M. Every drawer was numbered. Everything was smooth. Heavy. Quiet.
Only Valeria and the scientists were allowed inside.
Her father, his guards, and the soldiers waited beyond the glass watching, unseen.
But Valeria knew he was there.
He said he would be.
So she tried to be brave.
She was changed into a plain hospital gown. A woman named Claudia braided her hair into neat pigtails.
Then Valeria was asked to lie down.
Straps closed around her wrists. Her ankles. Her chest.
She couldn't move at all.
Her eyes drifted to the syringes laid out on a tray, small jars of faintly glowing liquid catching the light.
The doctors pulled on gloves. Masks covered their mouths.
"We should apply anesthesia," a man said. His name was Erwin.
"Proceed," Dr. Steven replied.
The needle bit into her arm.
Valeria winced. And then the darkness took her. She slept for three days, oblivious to the happenings in her surroundings.
When Valeria finally woke, she screamed.
Fire tore through her body. Her spine felt like it had hardened into steel. Every breath burned.
"Papa!" she cried, thrashing uselessly against the restraints. "Please... make it stop. It burns!"
The door burst open.
Dr. Steven rushed in with Claudia and Erwin.
"What's happening?" Steven demanded, fear sharp in his voice, not for the child, but for what her father might do.
"Blood pressure's spiking," Claudia said quickly. "Heart rate too."
"Damn it," Erwin muttered. "It's the Red. She's rejecting it, just like the others."
Valeria screamed again, tears streaming down her face.
Steven snatched the monitor from Erwin's hands.
Then he smiled.
"What?" Claudia asked.
"Look," Steven said softly. "She's not rejecting it."
He pointed at the screen.
"She's adapting."
The room went still.
"…She might survive," Claudia whispered. "Her brain patterns are stable. So she's definitely not going to go insane."
"And the pain?" Erwin asked. "She's suffering."
"It will pass," Steven said, eyes shining.
"After this… she'll be a success."
"What do we do now?"
Steven didn't hesitate. "Muzzle her. Make sure it stops before her father arrives."
Then he left, almost light on his feet.
Valeria's mouth was stuffed and tied shut. The pain lasted twenty-four hours. When it finally faded, she lay limp and exhausted, dark shadows under her eyes, breath shallow and weak.
The next day, her father came.
Steven spoke rapidly, excitedly. "The leukemic cells are nearly gone. Practically eradicated. I told you it would work, your daughter won't just be healthy. She'll be extraordinary."
"I want to see her," Martin said flatly.
Steven swallowed. "Of course."
Martin stepped into the room.
It had been only four days since the injection. Valeria looked smaller. Frailer.
But alive.
"Get these straps off her," Martin ordered.
They obeyed instantly.
Valeria stirred as his hand brushed her hair.
"Pa…pa?" she murmured.
"Yes, mijá."
"Did I… make you proud?"
His jaw tightened. "Yes," he said quietly. "You did."
She smiled weakly, then drifted back to sleep.
Later, as Martin prepared to leave, he spoke without looking at Steven.
"She's not a subject. Decorate the room. Make it livable."
"Yes, sir." Steven said. "And if the press asks?"
"I'll just say what they need to hear." Martin said.
Steven's heart skipped. "Which is…?"
"That she's studying abroad." Martin turned. "Relax, Steven."
He woke Valeria gently. "Papa has to go now."
She tried to sit up but failed.
"I don't want to stay here."
"You have to," he said softly. "When you're fifteen and in control, I'll bring you home."
"In control?"
"You'll understand soon."
He kissed her forehead one last time. Then he left. And the doors closed behind him.